


I Feel the Entire Zoo When I'm with You

by Agent25



Series: One Love for the Heart [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Black Panther (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:25:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent25/pseuds/Agent25
Summary: The air was awkwardly thick between the three as Bucky glanced from T’Challa to Monica back to T’Challa. He sure was acting strange for seeing an old friend…Suddenly it clicked in the super-soldier’s mind.“Ah.” Two sets of dark eyes turn towards him as he nodded his head in understanding, eyes cutting towards T’Challa knowingly. “That kind of old friend.”





	I Feel the Entire Zoo When I'm with You

Bucky couldn’t believe that he had let T’Challa talk him into this again.

Here they were, at another black tie event on the world’s stage as politicians, dignitaries and royalty mingled around them. They were in a glittering ballroom at the Palace of Nations in Geneva, hobnobbing with the greatest of the greats. Bucky was trying to be on his absolute best behavior, but he couldn’t help the jolt of nerves thrumming throughout his body.

His relationship with the UN wasn’t exactly… _harmonious._

Having once been accused of bombing a UN building, nearly being killed in an all-out manhunt for said bombing, and then being denied due process upon capture had made him justifiably wary of the peacekeeping organization.

The way guests and UN officials were distrustfully eyeing him and keeping their distance told Bucky that the feeling was mutual.

_C’est la vie._

Bucky shook his head as he reached up to tinker with his bowtie, straightening and then tilting it with the fingers of his Vibranium arm. He just couldn’t get it the way he liked it. It was such a finicky, useless piece of clothing. Who had even invented the bowtie in the first place? He oughta write them a strongly worded letter…

“Stop fidgeting.” a deep, rich voice said from his side as Bucky turned his head towards his hot date for the evening. T’Challa was impeccably attired in a red and black suit jacket, with a tribal, silk scarf hanging majestically off his shoulder before being tucked into his lapel. He looked every inch a king among the black and white of the crowd around them. Bucky didn’t look too shabby himself, in a tuxedo jacket with a detailed, metallic silver threadwork woven throughout the material.

Bucky didn’t pout, but it was a near thing as he glowered at his partner. “I’m not fidgeting.”

He ardently kept his hands at his side for all of a minute before his fingers began tapping a jittery beat against his thigh. Seconds later his right hand was reaching up for the damned bowtie. T’Challa sighed deeply, shaking his head resignedly.

“For Bast’s sake, James.”

With his catlike reflexes, his hand darted out, catching Bucky’s hand as his large, warm palm enveloped Bucky’s hand and tugged it down to their sides. Instead of releasing Bucky’s hand, T’Challa kept hold of it, his thumb idly mapping out the veins scattered across Bucky’s skin. Bucky couldn’t help but flush at the rare display of public affection. T’Challa – observant as ever – only grinned, a teasing glint flashing through his eyes.

“It seems I have finally found a way to shut you up.”

Bucky was tempted to stick his tongue out at the king, but restrained himself. He was classy like that. “Please,” he volleyed back, a tinge louder than anticipated, “You love my big mouth.”

Several heads turned in their direction, looking down upon the pair with scandalized expressions. Bucky quickly looked away, threading a hand through his newly shorn hair, ruffling his natural curls.

T’Challa’s mouth only quirked up into a tantalizing smirk. “Yes, I do.”

Bucky couldn’t help but blush again as T’Challa’s chest rumbled with resonant laughter. He kept the bright grin on his face as he raised Bucky’s hand to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss to the calloused palm. He lowered Bucky’s hand and released it and the appendage remained warm as it rested at Bucky’s side.  

Bucky sucked in a calming breath, forcing his body to cool down as he peered out over the crowd, observing elegantly dressed people travel to and from as instrumentals echoed throughout the large space.

“You know,” he mused lightly, “One of these days, I’m really gonna learn how to say no to you.”

T’Challa guffawed as he sipped from his champagne glass. “You say that every time.”

“Yeah, and one day I’ll mean it.” Bucky finger wagged sternly, though the king seen unperturbed by the display.

“Promises, promises.” T’Challa sweet-talked.

Bucky opened his mouth to retort, but shut it as the music changed and a sweet, melodious voice drifted through the ballroom.

_“You say we must part, but I can’t tell my heart…”_

T’Challa stiffened next to the super-soldier, his head lifting above the crowd, seeking something out. Bucky followed his gaze to the stage at the far right where a lone woman stood, spotlight on her, as she serenaded the crowd.

_“…and when the last dance is thru, and there’s no one to turn to, you’ll think about me…”_

She was beautiful, with copper skin and curly ringlets atop her head as she mesmerized in a navy, strapless ball gown. Bucky found himself swaying along to the music as she continued crooning. He was always a sucker for good music.

“She’s pretty good.” he remarked to T’Challa, who was still watching in a subdued manner.

“Yes,” he somberly agreed, “She is. Her name is Monica Lynne.”

Bucky bobbed his head, “You a fan of her music?”

“No.” T’Challa hesitated before haltingly rectifying, “Yes.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow questioningly. It wasn’t like T’Challa to be so… _reluctant._ Upon seeing his partner’s quizzical expression, the king sighed and capitulated.

“Monica is…” T’Challa momentarily faltered before answering, “An old friend.”

Oh. Well, that was nice. Bucky still didn’t understand why T’Challa was acting so cagey. One would think he’d be thrilled to see an old friend out of the blue. Bucky nearly inquired but seeing the uncharacteristically tenseness that T’Challa was now exhibiting, Bucky let it go as the song finished out.

Applause erupted throughout the hall as Monica beamed and took a bow before departing from the stage. T’Challa glanced around as his attention was suddenly caught by something new.

“If you would excuse me,” he apologized with a mournful shrug of his shoulders. “I see the Director-General and…” he grimaced apologetically.

“Say no more,” Bucky graciously waved off his partner as T’Challa left him, expertly weaving through the dense crowd, Ayo and Aneka flanking their liege as all three disappeared into the vastness around them.

Bucky didn’t remain in his spot for long as he took a turn around the ballroom, keeping close to the peripheries. He never liked being the center of attention, he would much rather be on the fringes, observing without ever fully engaging. He imagined it was habits drilled into him from his decades long conditionings from the courtesy of Hydra. The disadvantage of dating a public figure meant that he was often forcibly pushed into the light, kicking and screaming.

After he completed his lap, he paused at the hors d’oeuvres table, scanning the selection cautiously. The last time he had eaten one with reckless abandon he had ended up with a mouthful of caviar. It took all of his years of training as the Winter Soldier to not have spit it out right on the spot.

Talk about undignified.

After he judiciously selected some kind of skewered prosciutto, he pivoted and gracelessly rammed into a thin and delicate body. He nearly sent his unsuspecting victim careening, but quickly caught her, steadying both of them in one fell swoop.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, channeling all of his 1930’s charm as he grinned lopsidedly at the stunning woman in his arms.

It was the singer from before.

What was her name again? Malorie? Morgan? Maggie? M…Monica!

“You’re Monica Lynne!” he exclaimed as he released her. She blinked up at him, still processing her near drop to the ground. She recovered quickly and sent him a dazzling smile.

“Yes, I am. Do I know you…?”

“Oh, no! We’ve never met.”

Now her gaze seem slightly troubled and Bucky realized his error. _Way to sound like a stalker, Barnes._

“I’m just a new fan to your music,” he lamely interjected. It was close to the truth. She was a good singer and she knew T’Challa. That made her alright in Bucky’s book.

Her eyes lit up with delight as she relaxed in his presence. “Oh, well, nice to meet you…

“Bucky Barnes, ma’am.” he supplied helpfully as he held out his flesh hand for her to shake. She did so daintily as she quirked an eyebrow.

“Bucky?” she asked with interested eyes.

“Ah, James, actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “But my friends call me Bucky.”

“And you let them?” she teased good-naturedly before bursting out into light, musical laughter. Bucky was enchanted enough to join in.

“I’m just kidding.” she assured with a smile, “It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Bucky.”

“You as well, Ms. Lynne.”

She was quick to shake her head, curls dancing atop her crown of hair, as she waved him off. “Oh, no, please call me – “

“Monica.” A familiar voice cut into their conversation as T’Challa materialized at Bucky’s side, once again rigid and seemingly off-balance.

“T’Challa.” She gasped as she gazed at the king, “I didn’t know you would be here.”

T’Challa’s lip curved briefly as he nodded in acknowledgement. “It is a surprise to see you as well. A pleasant one.” he finished warmly.

The air was awkwardly thick between the three as Bucky glanced from T’Challa to Monica back to T’Challa. He sure was acting strange for seeing an old friend…

Suddenly it clicked in the super-soldier’s mind.

“Ah.” Two sets of dark eyes turn towards him as he nodded his head in understanding, eyes cutting towards T’Challa knowingly. “ _That_ kind of old friend.”

T’Challa had the grace to look properly chagrined at his former lie of omission. He jerked his head in silent response. Now Monica seemed perplexed as she glanced between the two men.

“Oh,” her eyes widened in realization, “Are you two…?”

“James is my partner, yes.” T’Challa smoothly cut in, thankfully ending the impending embarrassment as the three struggled to find even ground. God, this was rough. Bucky had no idea what to do. He had no memory of ever running into an ex before with his current squeeze on his arm. T’Challa seemed equally unmoored, though he did little to show it, as the three battled through small talk.

“How is your mother?” Monica asked, nostalgic affection in her eyes. “And Shuri?”

T’Challa smiled softly in return. “They are both well, thank you. And you? You are doing well?”

Monica began regaling the two with her various adventures touring throughout Europe. Bucky listened, smiling and nodding at all the right places, but his mind couldn’t help but wander as he watched the former couple interact with one other. As the awkwardness dimmed away Bucky could see their connection, how at ease they seemed in one another’s presence, wistful fondness apparent in their gazes.

They looked _good_ together.

Why had they broken up? They were both beautiful creatures; intelligent, talented, and compassionate. It seemed like a match made in panther heaven.

Surely better than a traumatized, brainwashed assassin who should have died decades ago.

As if sensing his downward spiral, T’Challa glimpsed Bucky out of the corner of his eye. He stepped closer so that their hands brushed together, sending a jolt of electricity up Bucky’s arm. Bucky caved and leaned ever so slightly into T’Challa’s side, seeking reassurance from his other half.

The conversation finally came to a natural conclusion as Monica smiled once again.

“I should go. It was nice to see you again, T’Challa.” She sent him one final, affectionate glance before looking to Bucky.

“It was nice to meet you as well, Bucky.”

He couldn’t even hate her when she was being so authentic with him. He grinned at her as T’Challa bid her goodbye. Both men watched as she was swept away with the crowd. When she was gone, Bucky stepped back, slouching as he jammed his hands into his pockets.

“She’s pretty.” Bucky couldn’t help but remark, a glutton for punishment, as always.

“James.” He didn’t need to look to know that T’Challa’s eyes were skyward as he prayed to Bast for patience. Bucky brought that out in him. It was one on his endearing traits, or so Wilson claimed. Not that he was a reliable source on such things.

“What?” Bucky defended as he lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “She is. You two make a very lovely couple.”

“We did, _once._ ” T’Challa stressed with a probing gaze, “Now I rather like the coupling of you and I.”

Bucky grumbled under his breath, “Smooth talker.”

He didn’t startled when T’Challa’s hand clasped his shoulder and turned the super-soldier to face him head on. He gave Bucky a little shake when the former assassin tried to avoid the king’s gaze. Bucky looked up, locking eyes with his lover.

“Trust me, James,” he implored gently, “The only one in my heart is you.”

Bucky stubbornly swallowed the lump in his throat as he nodded once. T’Challa’s hand squeezed reassuringly before he let it fall away.

“Come,” he gestured to the ballroom, “We have many more people to speak with.”

The night continued slowly, Bucky lost in his own head more often than not as they made small talk with dignitaries and other monarchs. Bucky remained staunchly silent as he slipped into their awaiting car. He looked out the window, ignoring the holes T’Challa was boring into the side of his head. T’Challa was patient though, infuriatingly so, and was willing to wait Bucky out.

It wasn’t until they were riding up in the elevator towards their penthouse suite that Bucky finally had the courage to speak up.

“Why’d you guys break up?”

T’Challa looked resigned, as if he had been waiting for this question all night. “James – “

“C’mon,” Bucky interrupted, “I want to know.”

The elevator came to a stop as both men ventured out, waving goodnight to the Dora Milaje along the way as they traveled into their opulent bedroom. Bucky was quick to toss aside his jacket. It landed carelessly on the floor, quickly followed by his bowtie. He finally felt like he could breathe as he shed his clothes.

T’Challa picked them up before the expensive jacket could wrinkle under Bucky’s abuse. He set it on the back of a chair, removing his scarf and jacket as well.

“It was a long time ago,” T’Challa explained, eyes clouded over with memories. “We were young. And…”

Bucky was at the foot of their bed, shirt untucked and half of the buttons undone. “And?” he prompted with a wave of his bionic hand.

T’Challa wiped a face across his brow, suddenly tired after a long night of schmoozing. “And it was thought by many of my people that she was…an _undesirable_ prospect for a consort. She also missed the appeals of home. In the end, it was a mutual decision to end things.”

That stopped Bucky cold. Monica Lynne – beautiful, charming, eloquent Monica Lynne – was deemed an inadequate consort? Oh, God, what was Bucky then? He was the farthest thing from Monica Lynne – walking disaster, hands covered in blood, and so, so, very _white._

And not to mention male.

Well, now he was being unfair in that respect. Wakanda was surprisingly and progressively fluid when it came to their views on sexuality. You loved who you loved. No harm no foul.

But that didn’t erase the fact that a king needed heirs and Bucky…well, no children were coming out of him anytime soon, that was for sure.

“Oh, God.” he muttered to himself as he ran a hand through his hair, undoing its rakish style.

He looked at T’Challa and suddenly saw something that he had never seen before.

“You loved her.”

T’Challa, weary and downtrodden, nodded all the same. “I did.”

“And you…let her go.”

 “I was young and foolish.” T’Challa took a step towards Bucky, carefully charting his movements so Bucky didn’t feel closed in. It was a holdover from Bucky’s recovery.

“I didn’t have the conviction to fight for what I truly wanted.” His eyes remained true as they stared at Bucky. “I do now.” he promised solemnly, his gaze heartfelt. A beat passed before Bucky sagged in relief.

“So…no regrets?”

T’Challa’s smile was brilliant as he shook his head, “None.”

Bucky nodded before looking down and continuing to work on his buttons. It was silent for a moment as another thought entered Bucky’s mind.

“Are there any other exes I should know about?” he inquired curiously, no longer weighed down with questions and feared answers.

T’Challa huffed out a breath, “It is of little consequence now that I am with _you_.”

“No, come on.” Bucky cajoled with an exaggerated bat of his eyes, “Tell me. I want to know.”

The king sighed before acquiescing. “If you insist. Well, there is Ororo, she is the princess – “

“Woah, woah, woah!” Bucky squawked, eyes wide as he gaped at his partner. “Princess?!?”

T’Challa gave a single nod. “That is what I said, yes.”

“You dated a princess.” Bucky plopped down onto the end of the bed as he pondered this revelation. “Well, it makes sense, you are royalty yourself. Let me guess, she’s some kind of warrior goddess who can kick my ass six ways from Sunday.”

T’Challa’s lip twitches in amusement, laughter threatening to break free from his chest.

“Indeed. She also has the ability to manipulate and control the weather.”

“The weather?!?” Bucky howled, “Ahhh!”

He flung himself backwards onto the bed, burying his head into the fresh sheets. _Control the weather?_ All Bucky had was a metal arm. It was a very cool metal arm, but still…

“How the hell am I supposed to compete with that?”

T’Challa clunked his tongue as he stepped towards the bed and reprimanded. “It is not a competition, James.”

T’Challa reached for Bucky’s nearest leg as he began undoing Bucky’s shoe as the super-soldier squirmed around like a toddler. He completed one shoe, tossing it over his shoulder. He was far too exhausted for his usual routine of orderly putting away his belongings. He moved onto Bucky’s other foot as he spoke down to the super-soldier.

“If I were to come face to face with one of your formers lovers, I would not view it as such.”

Bucky was quick to sit up with an indignant expression marring his face.

“That’s easy for you to say.” he grumbled mutinously, “All my exes are dead!”

He laid back down against the satin sheets as he stared up at the ceiling contemplatively.

“Well, maybe not all of them…Dot could still be alive. She was a real sweetheart.”

He caught glimpses of curly red hair, the trumpet of swing music and forbidden kisses in alleyways. Dot had been a swell girl. He was broken from his musing as T’Challa unceremoniously dropped his foot, it falling to the bed with an almost inaudible plop.

 “Missing her, are you?”

Bucky looked up and for the first time noticed T’Challa’s state of undress. He had completely rid himself of his dress shirt and was now only left in form fitting trousers as he towered over Bucky’s prone form.

The super-soldier was only so strong and couldn’t resist darting his tongue out to wet his lips as his eyes raked greedily over his lover’s strong body.

“Well, not right this second, no.”

T’Challa intently followed the trajectory of his tongue as he let out a low growl and lunged. Bucky didn’t fight him as he gracefully crawled up the bed, blanketing Bucky’s body with his own.

“Is that so?” he whispered, his lips only mere inches away from Bucky’s. Bucky relaxed into the bed, enjoying how T’Challa’s powerful body pressed into every inch of Bucky’s.

“Well, maybe if you distract me…”

He didn’t get another word out before T’Challa’s lips were crashing into his own. Bucky moaned at the first contact, his mouth greedily opening up to the king as T’Challa’s tongue expertly licked in. Bucky’s hands made quick work of running over the smooth skin of T’Challa’s back, reveling in the way the muscles tightened beneath his caresses. His hands finally came to a rest at T’Challa’s waist as he splayed his fingers and then squeezed, thumbs pressing into T’Challa’s hips.

With a burst of energy he rolled them over, T’Challa’ landing on his back as Bucky hovered atop him, straddling the king’s hips. T’Challa let out an _oomph_ as Bucky’s weight pinned him to the mattress. Bucky broke free of the kiss, panting and red-faced as he smiled down at his partner.

T’Challa reciprocated as he leisurely ran his hands up and down Bucky’s thighs, grinning wickedly as he felt them clench under his ministrations.

“If you need further reassurance that you are my beginning and end,” T’Challa teased with heavily lidded eyes, “I can think of a few ways to ensure it.”

He squeezed as Bucky’s breath stuttered out of his throat and he grinded down not so subtly against T’Challa’s hips, feeling a burgeoning hardness develop.

“Yeah?” he asked as he did it again, watching with satisfaction as T’Challa threw his head back in pleasure.

“Do tell, Your Highness.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky's outfit:  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157032205@N05/40308634411/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> T'Challa's outfit:  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157032205@N05/40308634281/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Monica Lynne:  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157032205@N05/40308634311/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Monica's gown:  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157032205@N05/40308634361/in/dateposted-public/)


End file.
